


The Cure

by allourheroes



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Scars, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Damian lets Grayson come to him, as he is certain Dick will. He’s made it sound as if sex is the lesser sin, that sex will sate him in place of blood and death.





	The Cure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrpq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrpq/gifts).



> For the Dd Secret Santa!
> 
> ...I’m so sorry if you hate this.
> 
> Thanks to [AJenno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJenno) for giving it a readthrough, but all remaining mistakes are my own.

“We’ll find the cure,” Dick is saying but Damian can’t concentrate on the words. They had ducked into Dick’s apartment after Damian had been bitten, as Damian had seized up, breathed his last breath for the second time. “We’ll find it.”

Damian puts his hands over his ears, but he can still hear Dick’s heart beating, his blood pumping.

Blood.

His teeth are too sharp and he runs his tongue over them. They could easily puncture skin, rend flesh and Damian loves how powerful he feels.

“Damian? It’ll be okay.”

The words jar and echo around in his skull and Damian turns, snaps at Dick, “Be quiet, Grayson.”

Immediately, he feels bad, because Dick’s expression is closed off, hurt. Dick opens his mouth, shuts it.

Damian almost wants to apologize, but he can’t. Not right now. If he were to apologize to anyone, it would be Richard, but he _can’t_. He tries to focus and he’s drawn in, nearly staggers—not that an al Ghul, nor a _Wayne_ , stumbles unless there’s good reason, a battle hard fought, life in the balance.

And Damian— His life is gone. At least technically. His heart isn’t beating...but Dick’s is.

He’s pressing himself up against Dick and Dick is holding onto him like Damian is looking for comfort.

Damian sniffs against his neck and it could be taken as an admission of weakness, the prelude to a sob. Really, Damian is taking in the smell of Grayson’s skin, sweat and metal and salt and musk. There’s a lingering hint of some kind of fruity body wash, but Grayson’s natural scent is intoxicating.

“Dami…” Dick smooths his hand down Damian’s back. “We should get you back to the Cave.”

“ _Tt_. The _Batcave_. I wonder if the legends are true. I could hang upside down with the other bats, wanted in name only. Anonymous.” Damian seethes. “Something else my father claims to care about and refuses to truly acknowledge.”

“The Batcave,” Dick corrects, “where your family is waiting. Where we can fix you.”

“I’ve died before,” Damian says, taking Dick’s hand and placing it over his sternum, over his scars. _To protect you_ , he doesn’t say. _I would die a million times to protect you_.

Grayson’s fingers idly trace where Heretic’s sword had pierced his heart, the raised scar tissue thick enough through the stripped down layers of Damian’s costume. “I know,” and he sounds heartbroken, but that thumping of his heart...

Thumping.

Thump-thumping.

“Grayson— Richard…” Damian presses his mouth over Dick’s throat without thinking, feels Dick’s pulse beneath his tongue as he swipes a wet stripe over the skin. Rich, warm blood pumps just beyond his current reach, he just has to—

“Whoa.” Dick pushes him away. “You know is do anything for you, baby bird”—the nickname is purposefully infantilizing, Dick is trying to distract Damian from how hard he’d been against Damian’s hip as Damian had come _so close_ to sinking his teeth, drinking deep—“but this isn’t how we deal with, with…”

“Vampirism?” Damian asks calmly. He licks his lips. “I can hear your heart, Grayson. I could feel you. You want the danger. You crave death just like the rest of us.” He doesn’t want Dick to want danger, he wants Dick to want _him_ , but this could work.

Dick startles at the bluntness of Damian’s words, but his heartbeat gives him away and Damian could spend a lifetime just memorizing the beat of that heart beneath Grayson’s chest, the heart that’s always been too big. Big enough to let Damian into it, despite everything Damian has done.

And all that Damian yet wants to do.

“If you bite me…” But Dick doesn’t complete the thought.

“If I bite you, what?” Damian presses. Voicing it only makes the desire in him stronger, an itch under his skin, the knowledge that this hunger will be soothed.

 _Hunger_.

“If you fuck me…” Damian starts, knows the implication of imitation.

“Wh-what?” Dick’s eyes go wide and Damian can see every detail of those blue, blue eyes, the red blood vessels tainting the white, how little Dick has slept.

“If you fuck me, maybe I won’t bite you,” and he says it like it’s already been decided, how an al Ghul ought to speak. He lets Grayson come to him, as he is certain Dick will. He’s made it sound as if sex is the lesser sin, that sex will sate him in place of blood and death.

Dick takes a step toward him, wobbles back, but then he’s surging forward, cupping Damian’s face in his hands. “I just want to take care of you. I don’t want you to— Not again. Not ever.”

“Quiet,” Damian orders again, tilts his chin up, gaze flickering to Grayson’s lips, and Dick follows his cues exactly, slots their mouths together with a groan.

Damian pulls Dick flush against him, devours Grayson’s mouth like he wants to devour the rest of him. He _keens_ , he’s wanted this for so long. He murmurs sweet nothings in Arabic as Dick kisses his jaw, unintentionally exposing his throat. Damian could just— He could just…

Damian has already tasted the flesh, if only he could delve a little bit further.

“What do you want me to do?” Dick asks, and he’s palming Damian’s ass. Damian wants to do the same, but his hands are otherwise occupied, fingernails clawing down Dick’s back, keeping Dick against him.

“Treat me like I’m the only one you want,” Damian tells him. He wraps his legs around Dick’s waist and forces Dick to carry him over to the couch, twists to make sure he ends up on top.

Dick’s hands settle onto Damian’s waist.

Straddling Dick’s hips, Damian peers down at him. “Tell me,” he urges.

“Damian, _god_ , yes. I’ve wanted you for so long.” Dick struggles, from their current position, to get Damian naked. “I’ve always wondered,” he murmurs, and now that Damian’s chest is bare, there’s more than just the thick scarring of Heretic’s sword, there are incision scars meeting up across his chest, traveling further down. Because Damian had been _dead_ , had been cut open and examined and buried, and although Dick had known it down to his core before, the scars are something else. He swallows, caught up in mourning all over again.

Damian grabs Dick’s hand, refocuses his attention. “What have you wondered?” He guides Dick’s hand back to his ass. Grinding down against Grayson, he takes Dick’s other hand and sucks two fingers into his mouth moans around them, puts on a show.

“D— _Damian_.” He watches, awed, as Damian slips his tongue between Dick’s fingers, pulls back to tease at Dick’s fingertip, nips at it. Dick slips his fingers from Damian’s mouth to travel them, spit-slick, over pert nipples, swirl over the hard nubs and pinch. At Damian’s buck and moan, Dick scratches his nails across the sensitive flesh. “Glad to see death hasn’t dulled you,” Dick tells him, trying to make it a joke.

Damian appreciates that. He also appreciates what Dick is doing, how _warm_ Dick is under him, but Damian is starting to feel the cold keenly, needs to be filled with heat, with blood, with— “I need you in me, Grayson,” he says, then realizes that his seduction technique needs work.

“Oh— Okay. _Fuck_.”

Or maybe not.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders, then moves only enough for Dick to strip little by little, maintaining contact with the glorious warmth that is Dick’s living body.

Dick is smart enough to scrabble for lube from Damian’s discarded belt and coat his fingers. “You’re so gorgeous, Damian. You always have been.” He teases a finger over Damian’s hole. “Is this what you want?”

Damian’s never been touched, but Dick is the only person he’s ever wanted like this, ever craved, and the idea of it so close has him drunk on the feeling, his own cock leaking onto Dick’s abs.

“You’re so cold,” Dick tells him, pressing a finger in, and his other hand rubs soothingly over Damian’s thigh. “Want me to warm you up?”

And that’s it exactly, as if Grayson has read his mind. Dick smiles up at him but it’s a hint forced, a hint fearful; he doesn’t fear Damian, he fears _for_ him. But Damian, he… He shakes his head, but then he says, “Yes,” anyway. “Richard, please.”

The grin turns more genuine as Dick slides in a second finger, works them in, crooks them until Damian shudders over him.

“That’s enough,” he says.

“Damian—” Dick starts, sighs. “I just want it to be good for you. _Great_ for you. And then we’ll—” He bites his lip and Damian narrows his eyes.

“I’m a vampire, Grayson. I’ll be fine. _Tt_.” Dick still thinks he can be saved, can be cured, but the only cure Damian wants is to lose himself in Dick Grayson. He raises an eyebrow and, with put upon weariness, Dick frees his fingers and slicks his cock. Damian raises himself up on his knees, sinks down onto Grayson’s cock with a whine.

“Easy,” Dick warns, his hands mapping the expanse of Damian’s back and sides and chest, catching too long over scars.

Dick is staying far too still so Damian takes control, lifting himself up, fucking down onto Dick’s cock with increasing fervor. It feels so good to finally have Grayson inside of him, to have that length of heat searing him from the inside out. “More,” he says. “Don’t prove my mother right.”

Dick laughs. “Is that really the argument you want to make right n- _ow_.” Dick cuts himself off with a groan as he grabs Damian’s hips, but he doesn’t slow their pace, tries to meet Damian on each thrust but Damian’s new condition must give him the strength and speed to make it difficult, to make Dick have to play catch up, because their movements become frenzied.

Damian scrapes his fingernails down Dick’s chest looking for something to hold onto, and the coppery scent of blood hits him like a blow, has him curling over Dick’s body to lathe his tongue over the scratches. He catches a hint of the taste, but it’s not enough.

So warm. So good. So alive.

Dick’s hand wraps around Damian’s cock so that each thrust fucks him back onto Dick’s cock or into Dick’s fist and it’d be torture if he weren’t so desperate for that last rush, so _hungry_. Everything is so close to perfect, the taste of Dick’s blood already on his palate, but Damian whimpers, listens to Dick’s rapid breathing, how he can’t speak.

How he can’t say _no_.

Damian sinks his fangs into Dick’s throat, coating his mouth with Grayson’s blood and, at the same time, Grayson’s breath hitches and stutters, and Damian’s feels him coming. Damian is being filled, is _full_ , is— is—

 _Warm_.

He rocks back onto Grayson’s cock a few more times, forward to suck at Grayson’s throat, into Grayson’s fist, coming without much fanfare; Damian is too otherwise sated. He laps at the blood threatening to go beyond his reach. He hadn’t sunk his new fangs in deep, Dick Grayson too precious to be wasted on wanton bloodlust. Dick is the one person he will gladly give control to, show control for. He licks over the puncture wounds until the blood is no longer oozing from them, wonders if something about his saliva is helping to close them as it seems a sensible ability of his vampirism.

“I’m okay,” Dick says, like he needs assuring. And like Dick hadn’t loved every second of it.

Damian licks his lips. He stares at Grayson a moment, assessing him, then kisses Dick thoroughly.

“You taste like blood.”

“Your blood.” Damian watches the darkness in Dick’s eyes, the little voice telling him Dick Grayson’s blood and body are all he’ll ever need.

“We should get cleaned up.” Dick doesn’t move though, pinned by Damian’s gaze.

“You think I need a cure,” Damian announces without preamble.

Dick doesn’t respond, lips parted.

There’s no difference in their body temperatures now. Damian feels more alive than he ever did.

“Yes,” Dick whispers finally.

Damian smirks. “Good. You’ll do nicely.”

Grayson blinks, confused. “What?”

“You are my cure.”

 _As you have always been_.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com) ♥


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